Escape
by Elizabeth Wilde
Summary: A young woman in need is found by Professor Xavier. Originally written as char development for an RPG.


Author: Elizabeth Wilde   
Title: Escape   
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks me for it, my sites [http://www.geocities.com/aloysiusj]   
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the X-Men people. I make no money. Don't sue me. Oz is mine.   
'Ship: none   
Classification: angst, general   
Summary: A young woman in need is found by Professor Xavier   
Rating: PG   
Spoilers: no   
Feedback: to wilde_moon@yahoo.com   
Notes: You can find the HTMLd version w/a graphic of this at http://www.geocities.com/aloysilusj/fic/escape.html   
  
She's taking her time making up the reasons   
To justify all the hurt inside.   
Guess she knows from the smiles and the look in their eyes   
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one.   
They're saying, "Mama never loved her much"   
And, "Daddy never keeps in touch;   
That's why she shies away from human affection."   
  
"You have a visitor, Oz." The fair-haired nurse smiled brightly at her charge.   
  
Ozilline shrunk back on the chair in her room. She was happy at least to have a private room. The directors had decided she was too "dangerous" to share quarters with anyone. //Visitor?// She shuddered and pulled her knees into her chest. The only "visitors" she had received were a couple of tabloid journalists three years earlier--when she first arrived--wanting to know if she was an alien. It had seemed almost funny at the time. "I don't want any visitors."   
  
"You sure? He's a nice man, older? Bald? He's in a wheelchair. I thought maybe he was a relative," she added, as if anyone with any sense would want to see their relatives.   
  
Sighing inwardly, Oz relented, "Let him in." //It's not as if it could get worse.//   
  
Moments later, a man fitting the nurse's vague description rolled into her room. The door shut behind him with a soft click and he smiled. "Good afternoon, Ms. Cohen. My name is Charles Xavier." Wheeling closer, he held out his hand to her.   
  
She stared at it silently, then looked up into the man's eyes. "You don't want me to."   
  
"Yes, I do," he assured her quietly. "You can control your powers. I trust you."   
  
Oz blinked, confused. //How could he know?// Slowly she reached for his hand, clasping it in hers fearfully. Nothing happened. Her hand remained as cold as usual, without the rush of warmth that came when she absorbed the body heat from another person. She put her other hand around his as well, a smile spreading across her face. Suddenly she dropped his hand, looking down at her lap, embarassed. "Sorry."   
  
"Don't be. It's been too long since you've allowed yourself contact." Xavier folded his hands in his lap and smiled at Ozilline. "Tell me, you've been here for three years?"   
  
She nodded mutely, eyes downcast. "Three years and two months."   
  
"Your parents put you here."   
  
The sadness in his voice shook her. It was sadness he had only heard before in her own words, in her sobs as she cried herself to sleep alone. "They did."   
  
"Did they ever tell you why?"   
  
"No. But I knew. Know." Ozilline's shoulders sagged as she looked back at the man, unsure even why she was talking to him. She always refused to speak to the counselors and psychiatrists the people in the institution sent to "help" her. "They were scared of me."   
  
"Why were they scared?"   
  
"Because I hurt my friend." Tears fell down her cheeks suddenly, making dark, wet trails on her pale cheeks. "We were outside--racing; we were in track together--and I grabbed her hand. She... she just sort of fell down and started shaking. She got really pale. And my hands felt warm. My skin looked normal." Oz studied her hands carefully. "I didn't look like a corpse. I screamed for my mom and she came out. Sarah--my friend--she was in the hospital for a few days. Hypothermia. And all I did was grab her hand.   
  
"I had told them before, told them how cold I was, how I touched a boy once and he had to wear his jacket the rest of the day in class. They always told me I was being silly." She laughed, a short, harsh sound. "Wasn't so silly when they saw what I did. My dad yelled at me and my mom kept crossing herself, praying. Then they put me here. They said it was to keep me safe." Oz rubbed the back of her arms with her hands and looked around at the disturbingly sterile room. "I don't feel safe."   
  
"No, I imagine not. I can help you with that." His expression was more serious now, eyes sharp and clear.   
  
"How can you help?"   
  
"Your parents gave me permission to take you to my school. It is a place where people with abilities like yours can learn and feel accepted." He sighed, jaw tight. "I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner. You should never have been stuck here."   
  
Tears filled Oz's eyes again at the regret in his voice. //Why should he care about me? Nobody else does.// "I could leave?"   
  
"Yes. We can leave now if you like. The school will be a wonderful experience for a young woman with your intelligence."   
  
"I should be out of school by now," she protested quietly.   
  
"That doesn't matter. No one can blame you for having had advantages unfairly taken away. There is a place for you there if you want it."   
  
Oz uncoiled her body and stood, nodding as she did so. "I want to go. Now."   
  
Xavier smiled at her with a warmth that made her feel almost warm herself. "Good. I have a car waiting. Is there anything you wish to take with you?"   
  
Crossing to her dresser, Oz pulled out a packed duffel bag. "I never wanted to unpack. Everything's in here."   
  
"Alright, then. I took the liberty of signing you out earlier."   
  
Oz nodded, not at all surprised. She followed the man closely as they left the room, eyes catching the somewhat confused stares from various nurses and doctors. "I can't believe I'm leaving."   
  
A pleasant chuckle came from the man at her side. "You are indeed." They exited the institution, going down the ramp to the side of the stairs.   
  
A smiling, handsome young man met them in a shining black car. He stretched out his hand to Ozilline, who blushed before taking it. "I'm Scott Summers."   
  
"Ozilline Cohen," she said, barely managing more than a whisper. She wasn't used to people, let alone handsome men. //Yeah, you're gonna do just great at a school.// She watched as Scott helped Xavier into the car, putting the wheelchair in the back.   
  
Oz slid into the back seat quietly. She caught the glint off of Scott's glasses in the mirror and decided she should at least attempt to make polite conversation. //Not that I remember how...// "Uh, nice shades."   
  
He glanced back at her, smiling. "They're sort of necessary. Contains my powers," he added in explanation.   
  
"Oh." Ozilline fell silent again. "So, where is the school?"   
  
"Westchester, not more than thirty minutes away," Xavier replied. "I still can't imagine how you were so close for so long without-"   
  
"Can't change the past," Scott interrupted firmly.   
  
"Right you are. What areas of study do you most enjoy, Ms. Cohen?"   
  
"Oz is fine. I like drawing. And reading."   
  
"There shouldn't be any problem working in quite a bit of both." Xavier smiled at her again. "I think you'll be pleased."   
  
Oz smiled back. "Yeah, I think I will be."   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
  
"Mr. Summers will show you to your new room," Xavier informed Ozilline as they entered the school. Scott had insisted on carrying her bag, which left her to twist her hands together nervously. "Would you like a roommate or would you prefer your own room?"   
  
//A roommate... that...// "No. Alone. I just... I'm not ready yet."   
  
Xavier nodded in understanding, then gave Scott a dismissing glance. He began walking and Oz followed quietly. "You're going to like it here, Oz. All the students do."   
  
She mumbled an affirmative, intimidated by the lavish surroundings and by the attractive instructor.   
  
"You'll get used to it," he assured her with a smile, stopping in front of a door and opening it. "Here you go. Your room."   
  
Oz stepped inside. All of the furniture was tasteful, beautiful varnished wood. The room itself was larger than her tiny one at the institution and infinitely more welcoming. She felt instantly comfortable.   
  
Scott set her duffel bag on the bed and looked around. "I need to take care of a few things, but if there's anything you need, just ask me or the Professor or anyone, really. We'll help." He turned and moved to leave.   
  
"Mr. Summers?"   
  
"Yes?" The ruby glasses swiveled in her direction again.   
  
"Thanks."   
  
A smile, a nod. "No problem." The door slid shut and Oz was left to discover her new home. 


End file.
